Friday 14 February 2014

February 14: Valentine's Day ... one view ...


Roses are red, but wine is red too, it seems that I don't have enough things to do
So I looked up Saint Val, just to inquire, just why he’s the Saint of love we admire
It seems that not much did he do on this day; I’ve checked Wikipedia, he just passed away
They can’t even decide if he’s one Saint or two; really and truly, you’d think that they knew

Nor is there a hint of his favourite obsession, did he grow roses; was that his profession
Was his middle name Hallmark, or perhaps Interflora, or did he float ‘round with aphrodisiacal aura
He must have been clued up on marketing stuff, ‘cause in the third century, investment was tough
And his kinfolk caught on, and set up some stalls, with flowers and chocolates to hock to us all

So now every year we do spend lots of money, to buy things to give to our wannabe “honey”
Anonymous flowers, what’s the real point in that, if she thinks that they came from Dick Whittington’s cat
Abandon the games, forget the deceit, walk up to her now, throw yourself at her feet
Tell her ya love her, say it right from the heart; but if she says “where’s my flowers?”, that’s not a good start

Take her to dinner, buy her a drink, get a few in ya, tell her what you think
About her blue eyes and her figure and stuff, but keep it polite, til she’s had enough
And after you’ve dined, walk her back through the park, and stop in a place that’s comfortably dark
Do whatever it is you share in your minds, but please do be careful, don't leave your manners behind

But it’s hard to keep going, on Valentine’s Day, when you look in her eyes, and she just looks away
Lucky you didn't waste money on Lindt, with your success rate, you’d quickly be skint
Give it a miss, try the footy, a dance; don't give up this day for that thing called romance
There’s three hundred and fifty more days in the year, so on February 14, of women steer clear

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